“C’mon, don’t be upset.” I reached for his snout and turned him back to me. “We don’t have to be lovers to be family. There’s no telling what’s going to happen in a few months, let alone a couple of years from now. Mosavi’s wife told me that what I’m doing to you is werewolf therapy or something. Let’s take thisone day at a time.” I took him by the hand and led him toward the door.
“I’m not gonna like this,” he muttered. “It’s too awkward out there with him.”
I stopped and looked back into the garage at the extra refrigerator.
“I’m going to regret this. Go grab a case of beer.”
“Uh, what beer?” Austin asked, his tail tucked between his legs.
“I’m not blind, you dumbass. I know you made more because Roscoe’s a complete idiot,” I said, punching his arm. “Where else would he have gotten that bottle from earlier?”
“What about Mosavi?”
“His wife is the ace up my sleeve—at least I hope so. Plus, Darryl’s here.”
He backed away and turned toward the fridge. “All right. I’ll be out with my newest batch.”
Despite what happened earlier, the weirdness faded between Austin and me. Alcohol helped, and Darryl took advantage of the relaxed atmosphere, pulling out his guitar.
“This is one of Roscoe’s favorites,” Darryl said, strumming a horrifyingly familiar tune.
Roscoe snapped over to me with a huge smile, raising his brows. I immediately had a Pavlovian reaction as horrifying memories of that day flashed with piss-colored clarity.
“Nope,” I shouted, throwing up a time-out signal with my arms. Darryl stopped playing, and Roscoe pouted, now a half a foot away from me. “Any other song, but that one.”
Chapter 26
Halloween — Part One
“Thanks for walking me,” Austin said, his eyes baby blue and somehow ever more devoid of emotion. The collar he wore was one of those thicker, studded ones often seen on Dobermans; the leash I led him with was hot pink.
“Where do you need to go next?” I asked, ignoring the weird stares from passersby.
“I’m good. Let’s go home. Gotta get to work.”
“What are you working on now?”
“A house. Wanna put something nice in the backyard.”
“You—you want a doghouse?”
“Sure do. I bet you could teach me all kinds of tricks.”
“Austin, you’re not a dog.”
He stopped and got on both knees, laying his head against my stomach as he looked up at me with those sad eyes.
“Come on, man. Everyone’s looking at us.”
“I wanna be your loyal, obedient dog, Cody.”
“Oh God!” I jerked awake and sat up in bed next to Roscoe. The dreams I’d been having lately kept getting more bizarre and awkward. While the vironoct may have been good for Austin’s mental health, it was driving me to the brink.
I rubbed my eyes and pushed away the blanket before scooting toward the end of the bed. While keeping as quiet as I could, I tiptoed out into the hallway. Deep snoring vibrated the walls in surround sound as I made my way through the house, Austin in bed with Adam and Darryl on the couch.
I’d offered to sleep in the living room and let him and Roscoe sort things out in our bed, but he insisted he didn’t want to put me out. The guy barely fit, his legs hanging off the arm of the sofa and his arm dragging on the floor, half of his body teetering over the edge.
I knelt next to him and lightly shook him awake.
